Hold the World to Harvard’s Standards

At Commencement today, we will surely hear a variety of adjectives — brilliant, accomplished, and passionate — to describe our class. One that won’t come up, despite administrators’ likely opinions, is demanding.

But in many ways, my most meaningful experiences at Harvard were defined by student demands. Reporting for The Crimson, I heard criticisms of every facet of campus life — from the University’s mental health care to its tailgate restrictions — and chronicled the activism that rocked our campus in the wake of October 7th.

As The Crimson’s president, I oversaw an opinion section that has criticized everything from the school’s breakfast menu and air conditioning to its foreign policy. And as a program marshal on our Class Committee, I’ve certainly felt the pressure of meeting the expectations of my peers.

That Harvard students have high standards is unremarkable: Anyone who has visited Sidechat knows just how much we love to complain. But as we exit through Harvard’s gates this morning, I can’t help but struggle to square this sense of empowerment on our campus with the hopelessness I, and many of my peers, feel about the wider world.

In The Crimson’s survey of the senior class this year, only 5 percent of respondents said they felt that our country was on the right track. But how many of us will write letters to our Congressional representatives as readily as we emailed our deans?

It’s worth examining why we feel entitled to speak up on campus in the first place, for which I often hear three primary justifications:

The first has to do with excellence. Students expect the best from Harvard, a university with a superlative reputation and a war chest to match. Accordingly, we figure it should use its wealth and prestige to advocate for the greater good and lead the field in everything from its research to its facilities.

Second, many students and their families pay the price of a home to attend this school for four years; understandably, they expect to see that value reflected in their campus experience. It’s fair enough that students question the quality of breakfast offerings after running the math on their meal plans.

Finally, we students believe — and are encouraged to believe — that we have the power to sway the University’s decision making. Surveys bombard our email inboxes; protests and letter-writing campaigns provoke statements and meetings with administrators; outcry even necessitated that a tired College administrator explain to The Crimson why the College couldn’t afford Ice Spice for Crimson Jam. Indeed, with encouraging frequency, student demands prompt significant changes.

So why, then, is there such dissonance between our high expectations on campus and sour outlook beyond? Certainly, the United States has more than enough political and economic power to be held to the same standard of excellence and leadership.

To me, it seems to be an issue of power: Many of us believe that our voices alone will not be sufficient to force change, or that there are others better equipped to make the case.

Yes, speaking out beyond the Yard can feel futile even in normal circumstances. Moreover, the Trump administration’s attacks on basic rights — including assaults on academic freedom and threats to free speech — have had their intended chilling effect on many who might otherwise offer resistance, from our non-citizen peers to white-shoe law firms.

The immense cost of political dissent in the Trump era is embodied on our own campus, with federal sanctions poised to decimate Harvard’s resources — not to mention nullify any progress that student demands have achieved over the preceding decades.

Fortunately, as we trade tuition for taxes, there remain many examples that should inspire us to continue to speak out and demand the best.

Personally, I find solace in our alma mater’s courageous, lonesome stand and the excitement it has engendered; the policy rollbacks by the Trump administration that have already occurred after public outcry became too great; our nation’s great legacy of advocacy and civil disobedience; and the title of “citizen leaders” that will surely be invoked from the podium today.

We do have this power, and we have practice using it. We spent four years demanding that our fair Harvard be its best self, even when speaking felt hardest. Now that demands are coming from outside the house, it’s time to defend it — and to hold the country to the same uncompromising standards.

J. Sellers Hill ’25, a former Crimson President, is an Integrative Biology concentrator in Lowell House.